You Thought I Would Forget
by wouldtheywriteasongforyou
Summary: Ginny has never truly forgiven Cho Chang for stealing Harry from her after all these years. Hogwarts drama. Flashback to Ginny's boy troubles with one Harry Potter. Based around Taylor Swift's song "Better Than Revenge".


**Author's Note: I am so psyched for the release of Taylor Swift's new album, RED, out October 22! She is such an inspiration to me, and lately her songs have been the basis to so many of the fanfictions I have been writing. This is just one of the many fictions (:**

**For those of you who didn't know, Taylor writes in secret messages in her lyrics. The capitalised letters in the CD lyric booklet spell out a special message for each song. The message for _Better Than__ Revenge_ off her 3rd album, _Speak Now_, just so happens to read: YOU THOUGHT I WOULD FORGET which is why that is the title to this fiction.  
**

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns the Harry Potter universe, Taylor Swift owns a guitar with teardrops on it, and I will (hopefully) own a copy of the CD Red (:**

**PS~ I altered some of the lyrics in _Better than Revenge_ to fit the plot line and magical world of Harry Potter. Taylor Swift owns all the original lyrics. **

* * *

**_12 October 1997 19.23 PM  
Empty Transfiguration Classroom  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
Scotland, UK_**

"Now go stand in the corner and think about what you did."

My voice is hard and unyielding, but internally I am smirking. I have no idea what possessed her to think that she is better than me, but honestly, the girl was sorted in Ravenclaw. Surely that means she has some sort of intelligence, right? Every single girl at Hogwarts knows better than to steal a boyfriend from me. Well, _now_ every girl knows.

I stare at the older Ravenclaw, my gaze condescending as I look at the sniffling, blubbering mess of a girl in front of me. She has been crying like this for the past half hour, no doubt regretting everything she thought she could get away with. Silly girl. I come from a family of trouble-makers—I know every single rule in the book about lying and cheating. My brothers practically _created_ the book of lying and how to break the rules. I, however, am the expert on revenge. And somehow, I know that I'll be putting those revenge skills to good use sometime in the near future.

"I'm sorry!" she squeaks. "I'm sorry, Ginny! I didn't mean to! It was all a mistake!"

I shake my head. "A mistake, you say? I doubt that is true. A mistake is an accident, and what you did was definitely on purpose."

"But it _was_ an accident!" she pleads. "I couldn't help that I felt that way about him!"

"That may be the case, but you most certainly did not have to act upon how you felt," I sneer back. "I knew you were trouble ever since the day I caught you eyeing him even though you were already going out with your own boyfriend, Cedric Diggory."

She cowers back and continues to sob pathetically in the corner of the empty Transfiguration classroom we currently are in. "You're not going to hurt me, are you?" she asks in a trembling voice.

I sigh. I hate her, I really do, but I cannot bring myself to actually harm her. Stupid Gryffindor tendencies. And maybe there is a brain in that air-filled head of hers because I have a feeling that she is trying to manipulate me or exploit any sort of weakness of mine so I will sympathise her.

Her manipulation skills must be pretty good. I find myself slightly tampering down any sort of blood-thirsty and vengeful thoughts towards her that depending on the day, I may or may not have acted upon. But only slightly. I don't think I could ever forgive her for what she has done to mess with me and my life.

"I guess you'll just have to wait and find out," I tell her in a low, threatening voice.

The way I see it, Cho Chang deserves every act of revenge I inflict up on her. She's had it coming for a long, long time now.

.

.

The story starts when it was hot and it was the summer between my Fifth and Sixth year, and I had Harry Potter right where I wanted him—as my boyfriend. She came along, got him alone one day, and did Godric-knows-what to Harry. Let's hear the applause at how sneaky she is because the next thing I know, she's taken Harry faster than I could say 'sabotage'.

.

.

**_30 July 1997 17.50 PM  
Back Garden  
The Burrow—Outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole  
Devon, England_**

I fly around, a content smile upon my face. The dense balmy summer air parts as I create my own wind patterns with the tail of my broom. The sun shines down creating a golden atmosphere that is distinctly hot and summer-y.

I swipe a hand across my forehead and push my sweaty bangs behind my ear. It isn't too hot out here, but I am still trying to cool off after a rather invigorating game of Quidditch that I had just played and won.

"Hey, Gin? Can I talk to you for a minute?" Harry calls up to me from his collapsed, reclining position in Mum's garden of sparkling crystalline flowers that she received from Fleur Delacour the other day. Merlin, Fleur gets on my nerves. Her accent is so phony and she believes she can flounce through life because of her ethereal beauty. Puh-lease. And the fact that Fleur claims the flowers are the rare and exotic Mermaid Tears imported directly from Paris, France? Yeah, right. If I am not mistaken, she's just trying to get on Mum's good side—I didn't think Mum _had _one—because she is about to become part of the family this summer. How Bill can stand his fiancée, I do not know. I give him so much credit for tolerating that little princess-wanna-be.

But anyways. Back to my boyfriend, Harry. His team has suffered a particular nasty defeat my team has inflicted upon his Quidditch team. Don't quote me on this, but I think I just saw him pout a few moments ago.

We're in the backyard of the Burrow and are completely surrounded by my nosy, eavesdropping Weasley family. Not exactly my ideal place to have a 'serious talk' like Harry seems to want to have. Nonetheless, I nod my head in consent to Harry's particular question.

"Great," Harry says, sounding quite the opposite. His face is grim and his tone is blunt and flat. "Er, would you mind going somewhere more…private?"

I nod again in agreement despite the increasing negative feeling I am developing towards this situation. Somehow, I know that whatever Harry has to say to me is not going to be pleasant. "Yeah, sure," I tell my boyfriend. I join him down on the ground and lay my broomstick parallel to him.

My twin brothers, Fred and George, must be extremely dense because they are seemingly oblivious to all the tension between Harry and me. "Oy, mate!" they call out in unison to Harry. "Just don't be dragging Ginny into any broom closets, all right?"

I scowl at the two trouble-makers. Why haven't they gone inside the house like the rest of my family did minutes ago? "That's not even funny. Why would you insinuate something like that about Harry and me?"

They exchanged a scandalized look. "Are you _denying_ what we said, Ginny?" Fred inquires. George has a peculiar expression on his face like he sampled a foul flavour of Bertie's Botts Every Flavour Beans.

"Denial is never good," George says with suspicion etched all over his face. "It usually means the denier is admitting or hiding something. So which is it, dear sister?"

I open my mouth to respond with a cutting remark, but Harry interrupts.

"Ginny, can we talk right _now_?" Harry practically begs.

I wonder what is so urgent. I guess Harry doesn't want to rant about something mundane like his Quidditch loss like I originally thought.

"Yeah," I answer back. I turn to Fred and George and stick out my tongue at them. "Go bother someone else," I tell my brothers. They roll their eyes at me but comply with my words. I feel only a minor twinge of remorse when it just so happens to be that Fleur Delacour turns out to be their next victim. Note that I said _minor_. The twins grumble a bit and head into the house to mess with Little Miss Priss.

"So, er, how about we go up on our brooms for a bit?" I suggest once we're sort-of alone. People can still see us from the windows and the glass isn't exactly sound-proof. "Should be pretty quiet and private up there. It's kind of hard to find a place of solitude here at the Burrow. But, you know, we don't have to fly if you're tired of being on your Firebolt. I think that—"

"Ginny," Harry quietly interrupts my rambling. "Flying in the air would be fine."

"Oh. Alright, then," I say. I flush red, embarrassed, but I shrug it off and mount my own broom, the new Stardust 18 built specifically for Chasers. Godric, the broom is amazing. I feel like I am flying on a cloud whenever I ride it. I consciously jerk myself out of my broom-riding bliss and kick-off from the ground. Harry follows in suit.

Soon, we're about level with the lowest-hanging clouds in the sky. I turn to my right and look at Harry expectantly.

He is fidgeting on his broom. This puts me even more on alert—usually Harry's broom is considered to be one of the few places where he is comfortable and acts natural.

"Er, there's no easy way to say this," he begins in an anxious and rapid voice. "So I'm going to be blunt and fast about it as if I were ripping off a plaster, alright?"

"Sure," I agree slowly, mentally cringing at his analogy, and thinking with dread that whatever he is about to tell me is not going to be pleasant if he compares it to pulling off a bandage.

Harry runs an agitated hand through his messy hair. He looks at his broom, then down at the ground, before he shifts his gaze to the sky. His eyes are anywhere else other than mine when he says in a low, fast voice: "We can't be together anymore."

I blink. He can't have just said what I thought I had heard. Maybe the air pressure is affecting my hearing. "I'm sorry, one more time?"

"We can't be together anymore," Harry repeats, enunciating every painful word this time.

So my hearing wasn't faulty. He really did say that. I stare at him with a hard unflinching gaze, daring him to make eye contact with me. "And why is this?" I spit out angrily. "Is it because of You-Know-Who?" Merlin, help me. If Harry is breaking up with me just because of the Dark Lord, I just might hunt down that fraud and end that wretched soul's life myself. Godric only knows why I didn't do so back in my Second Year when the lunatic possessed my mind.

"No!" Harry replies hurriedly. "I mean, yes, it's because of Voldemort, but that wasn't the original reason—"

"Oh?" I interrupt in a poisonous voice. "So what exactly _is_ the original reason?"

Harry has the decency to look embarrassed and sheepish. He mutters something unintelligible underneath his breath and looks off in another direction.

"Would you mind speaking up, Harry? I didn't quite catch that," I say exasperatedly. My grip on my broom handle is slowly edging to the point where I might have fingernail gouge marks in the wood if I don't relax anytime soon.

"Cho Chang," Harry tells me. "She asked me to go out on a date with her to Diagon Alley before fall term started. And I accepted."

The words hit me like a well-aimed Bludger. Cho Chang. Harry is dumping me so he can be with Cho effing Chang. I never saw it coming, and I most certainly never would have suspected that she would be the reason why Harry would break up with me. Sure, I knew she and him had a thing going on during their Fifth Year, but _surely_ she knew Harry and I were an item.

So maybe she wasn't exactly subtle that she wanted Harry back last term, but I had assumed that she had gotten over it by now. Clearly, I underestimated just who I was dealing with.

She had to know the pain of Harry breaking up with me is beating on me like a drum. My ire is growing with each passing second. It seems to be that she underestimated just who she was stealing from.

"She's not a saint, she's not what you think! She's an actress!" I snap at Harry. "You probably only like her because she's better known for the things that she does on the mattress!"

Harry gives me an offended look. "C'mon, Gin, don't be like this—"

"Be like what?" I interrupt sharply. I furiously swipe a hand across my eyelids when my vision starts to blur. Stupid, traitorous tears. I haven't cried since Second Year when I got locked in the Chamber of Secrets and even then, I was only crying because I was practically dying. "You don't want me to be heart-broken that you're dumping me just to go on a 'romantic' date in Diagon Alley with Cho Chang?" Oh, Godric, help me. The sarcasm is flowing out at full-force. I'd rather be sarcastic than tearful, though. "You don't want me to be angry and hurt that you'd rather be with the girl who is still in love with a dead person than the girl who has loved you for over six years?"

A pained look flashes across Harry's face. "Don't talk about Cedric like that," he chokes out.

I immediately feel bad for bringing up the painful memories of Harry's Fourth Year. But then I wonder why it isn't acceptable for me to emotionally wound Harry, but somehow it is okay for him to rip out my heart and stomp all over it.

Ew, that was a graphic and nasty thought. I take it back.

"Harry," I say in a softer tone. "I...I don't understand." For the first time during the entire conversation, his green eyes meet mine. "What...made you change your mind a-about us?" My voice starts to quiver at the end, and I rapidly blink a few more disloyal tears away.

"It's complicated," Harry sighs. Wow, I didn't expect that over-used phrase to be his excuse. "You wouldn't understand."

I bristle at that. He of all people should know that I am not some sort of damsel in distress who cannot comprehend the workings of the world. "Fine," I say in a clipped tone. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Harry."

My broom plummets to the ground along with any sort of hope that we might put this break in our relationship behind us. Right now it seems as if we are never, ever getting back together.

I don't bother looking to the sky as I walk away and into the Burrow. There's nothing I want to see up there, anyways.

.

.

**_19.02 PM  
Dining Room—The Burrow_**

The fact that dinner was an awkward event is a major understatement. It didn't help that Harry was sporting a black eye and Fred and George were suspiciously cradling bruised knuckles.

"Oh, you poor, poor dear!" Mum exclaims as soon as she catches sight of my ex-boyfriend's face. "What happened to your eye?"

I take one more wary glance at Harry's black eye before I arch my eyebrows knowingly at my brothers. They shrug nonchalantly in response and mouth _Sorry_ but their faces tell a different story.

"Er, one of the gnomes took a swing at me when I was looking for the Snitch earlier today," Harry improvises on the spot.

Well, I _thought_ he improvised. That comment sure had a lot of double-meanings in it.

Mum purses her lips at Harry. "Hm." I know she sees right through his half-truth. "Well in that case, Fred and George, you two will be on gnome duty tomorrow. We can't have any more injuries...right, Ginevra?"

I knew it! Mum is entirely too perceptive for her own good. "Yeah, sure," I say neutrally. "But it's not really my business, so I could care less."

Mum's eyes narrow suspiciously at me. "You don't care that your boyfriend is injured?"

"I don't have a boyfriend," I say. "Pass the salt, please." I nudge Ron with my elbow since he is the closest to the saltshaker.

The whole table is silent. Dad and Mum have exchanged some sort of complicated glance in that weird language only parents can comprehend. Bill has frozen momentarily with his forkful of steak half-way in his mouth. Percy is absent as usual, and Charlie is glaring menacingly at Harry. The twins are still nursing their bruised hands. Why haven't they magically healed themselves by now? Honestly. Fleur is ignoring me as usual, and Ron and Hermione look mildly uncomfortable since they're both good mediators between Harry and me. Ron still hasn't passed the saltshaker yet.

The tense and uncomfortable atmosphere at the table is getting on my nerves. I roll my eyes. Really, you'd think I had just given news out that Death Eaters were on their way here to The Burrow or something. I reach over Ron's arms and get the saltshaker myself. My mashed potatoes are getting cold, and I do not appreciate perfectly good food going to waste—especially when I feel particularly ravenous at the moment.

"And...and you're okay with that?" Mum questions after a few awkward minutes.

I avoid answering her question by deflecting with sarcasm. "What is this, a therapy session? I'm _fine_, Mum. Let me eat in peace." I shove a mouthful of potatoes into my mouth so I won't be subjected to any more of her interrogation methods.

Ron nods vigorously. "I agree. You're spoiling my appetite, Mum."

"I didn't even know that was possible," Hermione says with a roll of her eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron asks around a mouthful of shepherd's pie.

Fleur coughs daintily and stares pointedly at Ron. "Where eez your manners?" she admonishes him in her heavily accented English.

Ron flushes an unhealthy shade of scarlet and swallows his mouthful of food immediately. Across from Ron, Hermione sniffs haughtily. Godric knows how many times Hermione has scolded my brother about his eating habits only for the results to be disappointing each time. Hermione glares at Fleur and spears her peas rather violently.

And just like that, there is new family drama, and mine and Harry's break-up is no longer important.

.

.

**_21.15 PM  
Ginevra Weasley's Bedroom—The Burrow_**

I sit in my bedroom and stare out the window without really seeing anything. I am too lost in my thoughts to pay attention to the world around me. As much as I won't admit to my family, I am completely and purely devastated that Harry ended our romantic relationship. I don't think the stupid bloke realises it wasn't just a simple infatuation or silly school-girl crush I had on him — for me it was the real thing. I honestly and truly believed that what we had was love.

I am so naïve for deluding myself into thinking he felt the same way.

I sigh when I reflect over how much of my life I had spent on Harry James Potter. Six whole years. Six years of daydreaming about him and his beautiful green eyes. Six years of blushing when he said my name and crying myself to sleep at night because he didn't see me as more than a friend.

Until that fateful day after Gryffindor won the House Cup in my Fifth Year.

.

.

**_27 May 1996 19.05 PM  
Gryffindor Common Room  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
Scotland, UK_**

We are all celebrating our victory winning the House Cup this year and not Ravenclaw, yet it all feels so wrong to be doing so without our Quidditch Captain with us. I still cannot believe that the stupid ass landed himself in a detention with Snape that just so happened to coincide with the last match of the season.

The Gryffindor Common Room is in full celebratory mode. Someone had managed to sneak in butterbeers from Hogsmeade and many of my fellow housemates are acting pretty tipsy. Lavender and Parvati are giggling away as they cling on to Ron's arms. Their closeness to my brother clearly explains why I haven't seen Hermione all night. Scarlet and gold decorates every surface imaginable, and everyone is still wearing the attire they wore to the Quidditch match. My brain might just become colour-blind sometime soon and only process the colours of red and yellow.

There is one dark abyss to all the laughter and cheer, though. It goes by the name of Dean Thomas, my new ex-boyfriend. I had dumped him last night, and it seems to be that he is still sulking over the matter. I can't really acknowledge his presence or else he'll become over-bearing and clingy again—the exact reasons why I broke up with him in the first place. Our relationship didn't really work out because he is the sort of guy who still believes in chivalry and feminine delicateness. Puh-lease. Everyone in this castle knows that I am independent and can hex anyone and everyone into oblivion.

Feminine and delicate, my ass.

So I do the only thing I know to solve the problem of Dean Thomas and I ignore him. Sure, it is not exactly the most Gryffindor thing to do, but it works. And right now, I cannot deal with any sort of headache that he is sure to give me.

"Hey, Ginny!" someone calls out my name. I look at the speaker and smile when I see that it is Neville who had spoken. I head over to my mate and grin.

"Yeah?" I say, trying hard not to laugh at what he is wearing. He's still dressed in his match game attire that consists of a striped maroon-and-gold argyle sweater-vest and a pair of laminated sparkly gold bell-bottom pants that look reminiscent of something that Muggle Elvis Presley used to wear. I make no comment of his apparel, though, because Neville is still sensitive about his personal style, and the outfit does kind of look good on Neville. Not anyone else, though. Only Neville could pull of something so ridiculous looking.

"I know I don't know much about Quidditch, but that was a spectacular win!" Neville gushes excitedly. "I mean, you and Cho were so competitive the entire game but there was absolutely no way that she stood a chance once you caught sight of the Snitch."

The post-game endorphins are still coursing through my body and I grin goofily up at him. Sometime over the year he had gone through this mental growth spurt that left him a good half meter taller than the most of the Hogwarts population. "With Harry gone, there was no way I was going to let Ravenclaw have the satisfaction of beating Gryffindor," I say.

"Ravenclaw hates us so much right now," Neville crows with glee. "Cho was about to throw a hissy fit or something down on the pitch. It serves them right, though. They were talking so much rubbish about us once they had found out that Harry wasn't going to play and you were replacing him as Seeker and Dean Thomas was substituting in for you as a Chaser."

I nod my head absent-mindedly. My attention is distracted by the sound of footsteps outside the portrait hole. Something tugs my heartstrings, and I immediately know who the newcomer is. "Harry," I say softly. In a louder voice I say to Neville, "Thanks for your support, Neville. It really helps to have a House that desperately wants to win the Cup as much as the team."

Neville, being the not-so-clueless bloke he used to be, takes the hint that I am trying to tactfully depart away from the conversation. "Nice talking to you, Gin. Keep this winning streak up in the next Quidditch season, alright?"

I smile. "Yeah." Then I slip away and make my way closer to the portrait hole. No one else in the room seems to realise that our absent Quidditch Captain is about to make his appearance.

"Quid agis?" I hear him ask in a worried voice.

_Silly boy,_ I think with a soft smile on my face. _There's nothing to be worried about. We won, you know._

A few seconds pass by before I spy his tousled midnight black hair appear. I watch him take in the party scene with an adorable face full of shock. I am mildly surprised at the impulsive feeling I have to go up to him and kiss it off his face.

Apparently I have hesitated too much because my brother seems to have caught sight of Harry and is now barrelling over to him with the silver House Cup in hand. "We won! Four hundred and fifty to a hundred and forty! We won!" Ron yells at Harry.

This time I act on my next impulsive feeling. I run towards Harry and throw my arms around his neck. His warmth is bliss to me and he feels like home. I snuggle in closer to his body and breathe in the delicious scent of him: something of a mix of pine, ink, broom polish, and the night sky.

I am caught totally unaware when he tilts my head back and snogs me senseless. Stars explode behind my eyes and my knees weaken. Harry wraps an arm around my waist to support me and continues on to snog me until I am completely mind-blown.

"Oh," I gasp with happiness once he lets my lips go so I can breathe. I capture his lips again. "Don't you dare stop, Harry James Potter."

He chuckles and pulls me even closer. "I don't think I ever could," he whispers and snogs me once more. "Thank Godric you won, Ginny."

I pull back for a second and look him into his sparkling green eyes. "I hope you don't mind that I made your ex-girlfriend cry," I say, half-jokingly.

The biggest smile splits across his face. "I'd take your happiness over hers any day," he responds and tugs me to him so we can begin to kiss again.

I commit that promise of his to memory before I let myself enjoy the feeling of being in his arms and being kissed until my brain could no longer process anything but the sound of his voice and how his lips felt.

Sure, it is a little messy, a little rough, and debatably fast, but it is my first kiss with Harry, and that is what makes it so special. But the best part is the fact that there is no Cho Chang around to ruin our new relationship or our perfect kiss.

.

.

**_30 July 1997 22.56 PM  
Ginevra Weasley's Bedroom  
The Burrow—Outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole  
Devon, England_**

When I come back to the present, I am surprised to find my cheeks wet and the presence of teardrop stains on my bedspread.

I still cannot believe the nerve of Cho. Soon she's going to find out that stealing an important person out of someone's life won't make you many friends.

She should keep in mind that you should never aggravate a Weasley.

And she should definitely keep in mind that there is nothing I do better than revenge.

It hurts me like a powerful and intentional Cruciatus Curse that she is able to ruin everything between Harry and me. I worked so hard at getting out of the friend zone with him, and all Cho had to do to win his affections was bat her eyelashes and flirt shamelessly with Harry. Godric only knows why or how Harry fell under her spell. Maybe Cho slipped some Amortentia potion into his pumpkin juice when no one was looking. I wouldn't put it past her.

A loud and sudden knocking jolts me out of my thoughts. "Ginny? Do you mind if I come in?" I hear a familiar voice say.

"Yeah, sure, Hermione," I say and continue to stare aimlessly out my bedroom window.

The creaky door slowly opens. Hermione slips into my room and sits down onto my bed next to me.

"I thought you might want to vent," the older girl explains her visit. "Or, you know, we could totally ignore the whole situation all together. It's your prerogative."

I turn and give her a rueful smile. "You are so passive-aggressive, Hermione. I'll share what's on my mind, but I don't want to 'vent'. Venting seems so one-sided, boring, and unfair. So would you mind sharing your opinions about this whole mess with me?"

She smiles brightly in response. "I wouldn't be Hermione Granger if I didn't share my opinions with the whole world," she says in a half-teasing tone.

My lips quirk into a half-smile before dropping back down into a frown once I remember all the confusing details Hermione wants me to tell her.

"Where do you want me to start? Our break-up? When things first felt off? Tonight's awkward dinner? Cho's importune behaviour since my Fourth Year?" My voice is bitter as I list off all the moments where I feel like our relationship went wrong.

Hermione shrugs. "It's your story to tell, Ginny. Just make sure you don't leave anything out."

With that sort of prompt, it all comes tumbling out.

.

.

**_18 April 1994 9.12 AM  
Crowded Corridor Near Charms Classrooms  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
Scotland, UK_**

"She looks at life like it's a party and she's on the list," I say disgustedly to Luna as we head to double-Charms together. I adjust my heavy book bag on one shoulder and continue describing my most recent encounter with Cho Chang. Merlin, who knew my Third Year would require so many textbooks? It's like the professors are trying to break my back or something. I need to get Hermione to teach me a weight-lifting charm. Not wanting to get off-topic, I continue to seethe about Cho to Luna. "Have you seen the look on her face she makes whenever I pass by? She looks at me like I'm a trend and she's so over it."

"I think her ever-present frown is a little troubling," Luna responds in her breathy, light voice. That's the closest I have ever heard my friend say anything remotely near to resembling an insult.

"She thinks I'm psycho 'cause I like to rhyme her name with things," I scoff back.

We continue on our way to Charms, each lost in our thoughts about the Asian Persuasion known as Cho Chang. Rather suddenly, Luna adorns one of her many ditzy-looking smiles and turns to face me. "You can't exactly blame Cho for thinking you're psycho."

I grin at Luna's rhyme. "Did you know Cho is part of the word 'psycho'?" I chuckle at my revelation and then let the humour fade away for a moment when I say: "Just because I think Cho is a little ho does not mean anything in the grand scheme of things." Oh wow, that must be one of the biggest lies I have ever spoken.

"You call her Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Chang behind her back," Luna points out.

"No," I defend myself, but my face heats up Fiendfyre-red in embarrassment at being called out for that. "That is what the entire male population at Hogwarts calls her. Not me."

"You started it."

I shrug. Guilty as charged. "She doesn't exactly deny the rumours, anyways," I say in a lame attempt to validate my argument. However, both Luna and I know that I have lost this dispute.

"No," Luna remarks agreeably because that's what Luna does whenever an argument comes to an end—she makes some sort of pleasant remark about the opposing viewpoint. "I guess she doesn't."

We reach the door to the Charms classroom, but the entrance is blocked by Cho and her posse of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff Cho wanna-bes. They're all currently flipping their glamour-charmed hair, examining their perfectly manicured nails, and giggling rather pathetically as they all vie for Cedric Diggory's attention as he passes by on his way to his own class.

"Merlin, you'd think they would know that sophistication isn't what you wear or who you know!" I exclaim exasperatedly to Luna. My voice comes out at a volume louder than I intended, and all the prep girls wrinkle their noses and stare at me as if I had suddenly grown hooves and transformed into a centaur.

"And she wonders why Harry Potter doesn't like her enough to ask her out," Marietta Edgecombe, one of Cho's Ravenclaw cronies, snidely remarks in a stage-whisper.

The group titters and agree and glare/stare at me in a mixture of disgust and pity.

I roll my eyes at all of them. They are so fake and seriously need to get a life. If anything, I should be the one pitying the carbon copies of Cho Chang.

"C'mon, Luna, we're going to be late if we continue to stay out here and breathe the same air as those harpies," I say to Luna and practically drag her through the throng and into Professor Flitwick's classroom.

However, as soon as I pass a certain Asian Ravenclaw, I trip and tumble gracelessly forward onto my face with my book flying everywhere. It seems to be that a particular leg just so happened to stretch out at the same time I walked by, and if I am not mistaken, I felt a pair of hands push against my back a few seconds before I fell.

I glare up at Cho. "You know, you don't have to push people down to get you where you want to go," I spit out in a loathing tone.

She lifts her shoulders in a smug way. "Oops," she says with a smile. "Didn't see you there." Just to spite me even further, she flips her glossy black waist-length hair over one shoulder and stares down at me with a patronising look on her face.

That is a load of hippogriff shit. I guess they don't teach manners at Hogwarts so it's up to me to educate Cho Chang in the subject.

"No amount of vintage dresses gives you dignity," I snark at her and her wardrobe choice.

So maybe I need help with this whole manners concept too.

Cho flips her hair once more and sniffs haughtily. Her designer white lace-and-silk eyelet mini dress peeks out from underneath her perfectly ironed-and-pressed school robes. Even though it pains me to say so, her dress is something to envy and she knows it. "Oh you poor, poor little Gryffindor," she coos at me condescendingly. "It's pretty cute in a pathetic sort of way how you lion cubs have to rely on your pitiful scraps of so-called bravery and courage. But you know, I guess we all can't be blessed with Ravenclaw brains."

"Yes, because I am _so_ jealous of your birdbrain," I say back and make sure to saturate my voice with plenty of sarcasm.

The crowd starts booing Cho because I've managed to outwit the reigning Ravenclaw Comeback Queen. Her nose is flaring and her eyes are glittering cold laser beams of black fire. All aimed at me, of course.

"Ginny, we should probably take a step inside of the Charms classroom sometime in the near future. Professor Flitwick looks like he is about to start the lesson."

"Alright," I agree with Luna and follow her inside the drafty Charms classroom. It's not like I have the sort of time to wait all day for Cho to make up some sort of brainy and scathing riposte. "S'later, Tweety Bird. Make sure the puddy cat doesn't catch your tongue again—I am pretty sure you don't like being rendered speechless, am I correct?" Again, I do not bother waiting for her to respond. I wiggle my fingers at Cho and her posse and laugh smugly as I make my way into Charms.

Score one for Ginny. I'd love to see those witches try to make sense out of the American idiom I just spoke and my allusions to the Muggle cartoon show.

I think their brains just might combust from all the thinking they'll have to do.

It sucks to be on the receiving end of any of my comebacks or revenge plans. Those losers should've known not to ever mess with me.

Who knew Ravenclaws could be so dumb?

.

.

**_30 July 1997 23.18 PM  
Ginevra Weasley's Bedroom  
The Burrow—Outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole  
Devon, England_**

After recounting that particular memory, I punch one of my fluffy throw pillows in anger. Godric, I never knew that it is possible to hate someone so _much_. "I don't know what Harry's told you, but she's not a saint and she's not anything like what you think she is—she's an actress and pretty much only known for the things she does on the mattress." I repeat my description of Cho to Hermione in almost a perfect copy of what I had said to Harry earlier when he broke up with me.

Hermione wrinkles her nose at my portrayal of Cho. "That is so _vile_," she scorns with as much derision as she can fit into that sentence. She gags and mimes vomiting to emphasise her opinion.

I grin at Hermione's reaction. As much as she denies it, she really is a prude.

Hermione scowls at me. "Don't laugh at me, Ginny. We can't all be 'experienced' like you."

I shriek with laughter at her implication. "Ew! No! I have never gone farther than second base. To think that you had such lecherous thoughts concerning Michael Corner or Dean Thomas..." I wrinkle my nose and shake my head vigorously. I nudge Hermione with my shoulder, catching her unaware, and she goes toppling down onto one side.

"Ginny!" she exclaims with a huff. Once she catches my eye, she busts out laughing.

When we both sober up, Hermione tells me seriously: "We get the worst luck when it comes to guys and other girls. You and Cho are just plain scary and volatile when in the presence of the other, and Harry is like the match that sets you two up flames. And Lavender Brown...Godric, I _hate_ that girl. And Won-Won is no better." Hermione then lets out a legitimate growl. "Ron is just so _oblivious_ and socially awkward when it comes to girls."

I shudder at that. I really do not want to think of my brother as the type of guy girls fight over. Half the time I still cannot fathom why Hermione, the most sensible and reasonable person I know, would love someone as immature as Ron.

I scowl and scrape the sparkly gold and crimson nail polish off my fingers. Little flecks flutter down on top of my bedspread, but I pay them no mind. I imagine that each piece of polish I abrade off my nails represents each thought of dislike I have towards Cho Chang for nicking Harry away from me.

"Soon she's gonna find that stealing other people's boyfriends won't make her many friends," I sneer.

"Who, Cho or Lavender?" Hermione questions, a scowl on her face. She understands my dislike towards Cho Chang quite well because her situation with Lavender Brown is all too similar. She should keep in mind that whenever I concoct some sort of revenge plan for Cho, Lavender is also included in as a victim for hurting Hermione's relationship with Ron.

I shift on my bed and smooth out any wrinkles or imperfections on my red-and-gold Gryffindor themed bedspread. "Both," I state. "And they should both keep in mind that there is nothing I do better than revenge."

.

.

**_15 December 1995 12.09 AM  
Girls' Dormitories—Gryffindor Tower  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
Scotland, UK_**

"Ginny?"

"Hmm?" I say from my sprawled position on my bed. I keep on absent-mindedly flipping through the pages of my ZoomZoomBroom magazine as I await Hermione's voice. Ooh, that new model of the Stardust broom looks pretty wicked. I mark the page and continue on reading the magazine.

"If I tell you something, will you promise to not get too upset?"

"Depends," I say back flippantly, not really paying attention to her words. I dog-ear the page that showcases a lovely pair of leather Quidditch gloves that guarantee 100% protection from all of nature's elements and absolutely no chafing.

Hermione comes over and sits down on my bed. That action gets my attention—we only do bed-talks when something serious has happened.

I shut my Quidditch magazine, close my bed curtains, and cast the a silencing spell around the perimeter of my bed. Hermione shoots me a disapproving look in response.

"What?" I say innocently. I am no stranger to the fact that Hermione does not approve of spells that promote secrecy. But she was the one to demand this sort of privacy in the first place, so she really does not have any authority to condemn me of not following along with her code of ethics and morals. "Harry taught this spell to me."

Hermione's face turns into an expression of grim understanding. "Oh he did, did he?"

I bite my lip, not wanting to get Harry in more trouble than he already seems to be. Hermione is one scary witch who has a wand and knows how to use it in some pretty terrifying ways.

"So, er, what is this thing of utmost-importance that you wanted to tell me?" I ask in a futile attempt to divert Hermione's attention.

Hermione frowns at me but goes along with my subject change. "Something happened in the Room of Requirement earlier, and there are some rumours floating about..."

"Why, Hermione!" I teasingly gasp in a positively scandalised voice. I place my right hand over my heart as if I were in shock. "I didn't know you had it in you to gossip! You must be spending far too much time in the company of Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil."

"Laugh all you want," Hermione responds haughtily in one of her many I-am-better-than-thou voices. The snooty effect is ruined as soon as I spy the corners of her mouth curving into a poorly concealed smile. "I just thought you would want to hear of this particular rumour," she continues.

"Hmm? Oh, how kind of you. Please do grace my ears with the sinful words of this rumour that is required to be spoken of in absolute privacy," I respond in a light, mocking tone. I drop the Jane Austen era dialect and speak revert back to speaking in my regular voice. "Seriously. What's up with all of the secrecy?"

It's nearing half past midnight. I stifle a yawn with one hand and stare unblinkingly up at the older girl. Moonlight and shadows shroud the entire Gryffindor Girls' Dormitory, but because of our near proximity, I can discern every expression on Hermione's face. A loud snore coming from Lavender's general direction punctures our tense atmosphere. Hermione snorts, momentarily distracted by the undignified sound uttered by the wanna-be Princess of England who is all about poise and perfection in the daytime.

"Hermione?" I prompt her. Hermione hesitates. She fidgets and plays with the golden tassels on the edge of my red velvet bed curtains.

"It's about Harry..." she starts uncertainly, not meeting my probing eyes. She knows exactly how much my crush on him has intensified since the first time I saw him when I was eleven. I quell down the instinctive surges of jealousy I always feel whenever I hear that his name is associated with some sort of vulgar rumour.

Outwardly, I wave a hand flippantly. "Aren't they all?"

Hermione then purses her lips disapprovingly as she finishes her sentence. "...And Cho Chang. The newest Hogwarts couple is Harry Potter and Cho Chang."

My world stops spinning. I am pretty sure time ceases to exist. I doubt I am even breathing.

"What?" I manage to choke out after a few speechless minutes. "They are _what_?" There is some sort of invisible tight grip on my throat that threatens to suffocate me any minute. Black spots dance behind my eyes. Please please _please_ let me pass out and let this all be just some horrible nightmare. This cannot be true. Godric, it can't!

Cho is horrible. She is selfish and only thinks about herself. Merlin, wasn't she still grieving the death of Cedric Diggory? How could she rebound so quickly? And why Harry out of all people? I thought I had made it clear so many times before that he is off-limits. That once he stopped being stubborn and protective of me like an older brother would be, he would realise that I am an available and single girl waiting for him to fall in love with me.

And Harry. I never expected him to be some sort of Prince Charming (although that heroic tendency of his is rather fetching), but I did have this silly belief that he would always be there for me. Never ever would I ever dream of them getting together. They just didn't...match. Cho struck me as a princess who wanted everything in life to be handed to her. She is a Ravenclaw, cunning and manipulative to a point. Harry is a true Gryffindor. He is loyal and caring and brave and selfless. His future has already been decided, and rather than fight it, he accepts that he and You-Know-Who will have to duel face-to-face at some point. I doubt Cho would ever have the guts to do something as courageous as the task set before Harry.

And to think that the two of them are—

"Together," Hermione says flatly, answering my previous question before I got completely lost in the confusing thoughts of my mind. "They're an official couple."

"Oh." A deflated, empty sort of feeling settles inside of me. Any earlier thought dissipates until my mind is some sort of blank, emotionless void. "Oh. Good for her."

All is quiet again. Lavender snores so loudly that I am surprised she does not choke in her sleep. Outside of the perimeter of the Silencing Spell I had cast about an hour ago, the world continues to slumber on, oblivious to how my life has changed for the worse.

Hermione is studying my face carefully. "You're not okay with this," she assumes after taking into account of my dejected posture and unemotional responses.

"What do you mean?" I say impassively. "I'm not screaming in outrage, crying like some sort of clingy girlfriend, or having any depressed or suicidal thoughts. I should think that I am doing quite well with the news."

"Ginny," Hermione says softly. "I know you. And it's alright. You can let it all out. You don't need to be strong in front of me."

I freeze. My calm and collected façade breaks for a mere second. I close my eyes for a moment and take in a deep, shuddering breath. "I'm...fine, Hermione. Please...just believe me."

Something in my voice must have convinced her to leave me alone about the subject. Silence is bestowed upon us again.

"It's late, Hermione," I say after awhile. I am ashamed to admit that my voice does catch at the end. Godric bless Hermione because she doesn't say anything about my quivering voice. "We should get some sleep. But, er, how d-did this happen?"

I really don't want to know but I need to know the full truth. I know Hermione has all of the answers. Who else would Harry have told after he asked out his first Hogwarts girlfriend?

Merlin's beard, that thought hurts. _I_ want to be his first and only girlfriend.

"He was helping her in the Room of Requirement after today's Dumbledore's Army meeting. Mistletoe sprung up and, er, they kissed," Hermione summarizes, sparing me most of the gory details. However, she has told me enough that my overactive imagination has already started to create scenes of them entwined and snogging for more than a trip under the mistletoe requires.

Well. That was not a very romantic visual—after all, they were practically _forced_ to kiss—but what else do I expect from Harry? He is inexperienced when it comes to girls and nearly as socially awkward as Ron when it comes to dealing with females. He was oblivious—and still is—to the fact that I have been in love with him for over five years now. Half an effing decade.

Merlin, that's a long time.

"Don't be afraid to cry," Hermione tells me as she slips off my bed. She renews the Silencing Spell that is still in place around my bed. "I know you take pride in being strong, Ginny, but it's perfectly acceptable to lay down your armour every once in awhile. You're always going to have a spot in your heart reserved for Harry, but don't let him know it. Maybe you should try out some other relationships and act more as his friend. Who knows—that could possibly trigger him to see you as a potential girlfriend, right?" She offers a rueful smile. "I know Cho and I know Harry and I know you, Ginny. One of you will have to give something up in the end."

With that, she departs for her own bed.

I sigh and flop back tiredly onto my pillows. All I know is that I will never forgive Cho for taking the possibility of Harry and me away from my future.

.

.

**_12 October 1997 20.02 PM  
Empty Transfiguration Classroom  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
Scotland, UK_**

There is too much history leading up to this moment. Cho has managed to steal Harry away from me twice which is twice too many in my honest opinion.

I see her eyeing me with contempt like she normally does. Even when I have her cornered in an empty classroom, she thinks she is better than me. She is about to proven so wrong. I doubt that will sit well with Little Miss Brainiac.

"I'm just another thing for you to roll your eyes at honey," I say. "You might have him but haven't you heard?"

"Heard what?" Cho spits back. Well, I guess she's done with playing the part of a defenceless damsel in a dress. "Don't get so hypocritical on me, Ginny. It doesn't suit your personality very well."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I snarl. The tension in the air has shot up to unbelievable measurements.

"Well, look at you now, trying to intimidate me," she scowls. "Apparently _I'm_ just another thing for you to roll your eyes at, honey."

I hate how she repeats my words back at me. I step into her personal space and jab my wand at her. "You might have him but I _always _get the last word," I say in a threatening tone.

Cho has the nerve to yawn. "Really? Because all you've done for the past hour that you've held me captive is brandish your wand around in what you think is some sort of menacing way. But the truth is, Ginny, you're not a lion at all. You're just a coward hiding behind the shadows of others. Harry's _gone_. And when he comes back, it won't be you he looks for. It'll be me."

"Oh, really?" I say. "Is that what you think?"

"It's what I know!"

I stalk in a circle around her like a lioness would stalk its prey. "And as his girlfriend, you would be privy to information that he would feel alright to share with you, am I correct? And this information, no one but his girlfriend would know, right?"

Cho replies adamantly: "Of course."

"Then where is he?" I say. "Why hasn't he showed up all school year?"

She gives me a _duh_ look. "He's off fighting You-Know-Who." She pauses dramatically for a second and then adds in, "Duh."

Wow, I kind of feel obliged to give her loads of brain points for that last comment. Total sarcasm mode going on right there on my part.

"You do not know Harry at all," I say. "Not the way I do. All you have ever done is flirt with him. You don't know his secrets or his fears or anything substantial about him."

"Does it matter?" Cho counters in a bored voice. "He loves me. Didn't Dumbledore say all you need is love?"

I stare incredulously at her. I am a pureblood and even I know that is a Muggle reference. "Er...no. That was The Beatles."

"Beetle? Where?" she shrieks and starts looking around in horror.

I snicker. She really is pathetic. I don't know how on Earth she would get by in life without her beauty.

"You're not a saint, and you're not what everyone thinks," I tell her.

Her dark eyes flicker up to meet mine and her face curls up into a sneer. "Of course I'm not. It's not like I even _want _that reputation. I'm just an actress. That's all I have ever wanted to be."

"But you're better known for the things that you do on the mattress," I say with a smirk.

Cho flips her hair and inspects her nails. "Well, yeah. Guys are so immature, you know?"

I shake my head disbelievingly at her. There really is no hope to convince her that what she did—taking Harry away from me _twice_—was wrong because she just doesn't _get_ it. But soon she's gonna find stealing other people's boyfriends in Hogwarts won't make her many friends. She should keep in mind that there is no way Harry would ever go back to her if he found out all the lies and deception she has kept from him.

"You should keep in mind that there is nothing I do better than revenge," I warn her.

Cho doesn't look up from picking the nail polish off her fingernails. "Puh-lease," she laughs. "You're just a little nugget, Ginny. There's nothing you could do to hurt me. Like I said before, you rely purely on your Gryffindor courage. But you can't live life like that. I guess I'm going to have to teach you that the hard way, hm?"

"And you can't live solely on your Ravenclaw wit or whatever you like to call it these days. I think the term 'unsophisticated thinking' would suffice, but whatever floats your boat, you know?" I peer over at Cho and shake my head at her. "Do you still feel like you know what you're doing 'cause I don't think you do," I scoff. "Because I can easily tarnish your reputation in this school and knock you off your little pedestal. I know Harry chose you over me, and Godric only knows why, but all I want for him is to be happy and that will never happen with you as his girlfriend. One little rumour or one 'accidental prank' is all it will take for you to be socially ostracised just like your friend Marietta Edgecombe. So do you still feel like you know what you're doing? I don't think you do."

Cho trembles at my hostile words but tries to put on a brave face. "And I don't think _you_ do."

I shrug. "Maybe, maybe not. But let's hear the applause, right? Come on, show me how much 'better' you are. Show me why Harry deserves you and not me."

Cho scowls. "I will do no such thing to a threatening bitch like you!"

"See, I don't get why you think you deserve some applause," I say in a bored tone. "'cause I honestly don't see how you're so much better than me. You thought I would forget about all the times you have screwed me over?"

Cho lunges at me. Bad move on her part. I point my wand straight at her. Adrenaline courses through my veins. The only rational thought crossing my mind is: _She took him faster than you could say sabotage_.

And that's when shit gets serious.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thanks ya'll for reading my first Harry Potter fanfiction! I hope that Ginny and Harry weren't a little too Out-Of-Character (OOC) for you. But, as you all know quite well, I am not JK Rowling, and therefore I cannot imitate her writing style perfectly. I'm just me, wouldtheywriteasongforyou.  
**

**For anyone desperately curious to know the origins of Cho Chang's name: **Cho is Japanese for "butterfly" and in Chinese means "autumn." Chang is Chinese for "free" or "unhindered." In Chinese, "chou chang" means "melancholy."

**Please, please, PLEASE everybody go listen to Taylor Swift's "new" songs We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together (WANEGBT) and Ronan and Begin Again and Red and I Knew You Were Trouble. They are really really good songs and I love them dearly already and they make me so PSYCHED for the album release of RED! (:  
**

**10/11/12  
**


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